


Recollection

by Caligacal



Series: H.O.S.T. [2]
Category: JacksepticeyeRPF, MarkiplierRPF, SeptiplierRPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Drama, Literature, M/M, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-10 22:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13511241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caligacal/pseuds/Caligacal
Summary: Sean (Jack) McLoughlin leads a pretty normal life. Nice house, well-paying job that he actually enjoys, a group of nice friends that are always there for him.And he's even met someone, a really sweet and caring guy.But one night, somebody breaks into his home. And his perfect little world is slashed into pieces.[Part Two of H.O.S.T.]





	1. Part One

_Okay, so just a quick little thing. This tidbit takes place five years before Jack is killed. Also, there is a bit of strong language, maybe a little stronger than you're used to. Or not. I don't know your life! Anyway, I'll hush up now.... **OH! And there's drawings in the description!**_

_  
_

_\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

  _ **Five years prior… **_

____________________________________________________________Friday, October 11_____________________________________________________

                                                                                                                                                    _2:37 AM_   **Mark? Are you there? <**

**> What’s up?** _2:40 AM_

**> You realize what time it is right? >_>** _2:40 AM_

                                                                                                                            _2:41 AM_ **I think there’s someone in my house… < **

**> Are you alone?** _2:42 AM_

                                                                                                                                                                               _2:42 AM_ **Yeah... < **

**> Did you see them? What do they look like?** _2:43 AM_

                                                               _2:44 AM_ **No I didn’t see them <**

**> Did you call the police? ** _2:44 AM_

_2:45 AM_ **No not yet. Should I? <**

_2:49 AM_ **Mark? <**

                                                 _2:59 AM_ **Mark, please answer me, I’m not kidding… I’m hiding in the closest for fuck's sake < **

**> Relax. I’m right outside. How many are there?** _3:06 AM_

                                                                                 _3:08 AM_ **What? Why are you here?! I don’t know, I think maybe two? <**

                                                                                      _3:10 AM_ **Mark? Are you there? <**

                                                 _3:13 AM_ **Fuck Mark I’m so scared, what’s happening?! <**

_3:17 AM_ **Mark? <**

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    He heard the stairs creak. 

    Jack froze, his eyes flitting from the cell phone clutched in his hands to the closet door which he hid behind. Only his eyes moved as he stared at the door, listening. Waiting. 

-

    It had started about 2:15 AM. Something had jolted him from a deep sleep, but as he’d laid there listening, he heard nothing. At first, he shrugged it off and rolled over to go back to sleep. 

    But then he’d heard voices. 

     While his house was rather large; two stories, four bed, two bath, kitchen with an island, sunroom, and an impressive foyer, it wasn't necessarily very full. Sounds echoed easily throughout the house.

    So when he heard the whisper of voices drifting from the living room up to his bedroom, Jack had known. There was someone in his house. But what if his mind was playing tricks on him? He’d waited a little longer, just listening. 

    He could only hear whispers, nothing more. 

    And then something hit the floor. 

    Whatever had collided with the hardwood, caused a loud _thud_ to echo throughout the house. Jack had flinched, and then he heard a man’s voice, angry and hushed.

    “Be quiet you oaf! Or we’ll lose our supper!”

     _Oh my god._

    Paralyzed with fear, Jack had laid there in his bed, stiff and sweating. A thousand scenarios and explanations had zipped through his head in a second, and then one came into focus. 

     _Hide. Call somebody, 911! They’re probably here to rob you. If they don’t know you’re here, they can’t hurt you._

    With the stealth of a feline, Jack had slipped out of bed, snatched his cell phone off the nightstand, and snuck into his closet. While the door didn’t lock from the inside, he hoped that if they were really here just to rob him, there’d be no need to check the closet. 

    His wallet was downstairs, as was all his electronics and valuable tech gear. The office he kept upstairs had some cash tucked away in a safe, along with his mother’s jewelry. Other than that everything else wasn’t burglary-worthy. In Jack’s opinion.

    In the darkness of his closet, Jack made sure to silence his phone before attempting to contact anyone. Yet as he unlocked his phone, he’d paused. 

    His texting app was still open, along with the conversation he’d been having before he went to bed. 

    It was with Mark Fischbach, a new-found friend. They’d been texting back and forth all day, and it was the last thing Jack had done before he went to sleep. They’d only known each other for about a month, but it was a good, blossoming friendship.

    Mark was nice and extremely mysterious. Caught Jack’s eye the minute he saw him. 

    And as Jack stared at their conversation, he couldn’t help but want Mark to come to his rescue, or at least call the police. So with that, he’d texted the 28-year-old.

-

    And now, with the knowledge that Mark was actually here, Jack waited. 

    The stairs. They creaked. Someone was coming up those steps, real slow. 

    Jack clutched his phone to his chest, swallowing the lump in his throat and holding his breath. 

     _Please be Mark, please be Mark._

    He heard the person reach the top of the stairs. They stopped. Then they started walking.

    Jack closed his eyes, listening with all his might. Their slow, heavy footsteps suddenly softened, and Jack’s eyes snapped open. 

    The person had gone from the hardwood floor to carpet. They were in his room.

    Breaking into a cold sweat, Jack froze, willing his very heart to stop beating, afraid this intruder might hear it pounding in his chest. 

    For a moment, there was silence. And then the person called out.

    “‘Ey boss!” A male voice whisper-shouted. “I think I’ve got something.”

    Jack didn’t dare make a move. Did this guy know where he was? Were they going to look in the closet for something to steal?

    Whoever he was though, it wasn’t Mark. 

    He suddenly heard another person coming up the stairs, and they quickly joined the man in his room. Jack heard nothing for a moment, and then the newcomer spoke. 

    “Find it.”

    It was another guy, his voice deep and growly. 

    Jack heard them shuffling around his room. They pulled out his dresser drawers, shifted through his nightstand. He could hear them doing all of that, yet not once did they come close to the closest. 

    Suddenly, there was a _crash,_ like something had been knocked over. Jack jumped, the clothes hanging above him shifting on their hangers as he brushed against them. A few hangers clicked against each other, sounding like a damn gunshot to Jack’s ears.  

-

    The room suddenly got very, very quiet. 

-

    With his heart pounding in his chest, Jack stiffened. He slapped a hand over his mouth to silence his breathing, praying that the intruders didn’t hear him.

    And yet to his horror, he heard footsteps approaching the closest. And then the doorknob started to slowly turn.

    Panicked, Jack scurried further into his closest, hoping to hide among his clothes. 

    The door was thrown open, revealing the massive shape of a man. Jack froze, his eyes going wide as he gaped at the figure in fear. 

    With a snicker, the man turned his head and called out. 

    “Ey! Found him!” He turned back to Jack and chuckled. “Hiding in the closet like the pussy he is.”

    Jack flinched, both at the bite of the words, and the fact that this guy practically spat them at him. It was like the stranger had some sort of resentment towards him. 

     _Does... Does he know me? And then another thought hit him.  Wait, they were looking for ME?! I was the target?!_

    Before he could think much on it, not that he wanted to, another man joined the first in front of the closet. He was tall and muscular, not near as big as the first guy but still rather large. As he did so Jack heard the sound of more people thundering up the stairs. 

     _Just how many are there?!_

    The second man said nothing as three more came jogging into the room. They all crowded around the closet, staring at Jack like he was a caged animal in the zoo.    

    Too frightened to even speak, Jack scrambled deeper into the closest, his heart pounding and chest heaving.  

    For a moment not one of them spoke. Nobody even moved. 

    Then the second man that had appeared, “boss” as the big guy called him, suddenly took a step forward, into the closet. Jack’s gaze flicked towards him, his eyes wide and glassy. Without making a sound, the man, a pale, dark-haired fellow, squatted down and rested his forearms on his knees. 

    Fearing the worst, Jack pressed his back against the wall, trying desperately to disappear within it. The man before him just stared at him, not saying a word. And then he suddenly grinned, showing off surprisingly white, straight teeth. 

    “There’s nothin’ t’ fear, kid. We just need your help with somethin’.”

    He smirked, almost wickedly, and reached for Jack. 

    Wanting nothing to do with these guys, Jack quickly shied away from the man’s hand and scrambled to the far corner of his closet. Yet before he could quite get there, the man snatched his upper arm and dragged him from his hiding spot.

    Fighting like mad immediately, Jack kicked about and struggled as one of the other men grabbed his other arm and lifted him to his feet. 

    “Let go! Hel-!”

    Jack tried to cry out for help, but the first man that had grabbed him slammed a hand over his mouth, effectively muting him. Jack winced as the man’s hand stung against his skin. 

    “Shut up,” the man hissed, shaking Jack’s head slightly. “One more word and I swear to all that is good I willrip your throat out.”

    Jack slowly stopped resisting and let the man’s words sink in. 

    _I… I think he means that._ Catching a glimpse of the pale man’s eyes, Jack almost wet himself.

     _He definitely means it._

    Scared for his life, Jack started to tremble. He couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the man’s eyes. They were so dark, so cold, that they were terrifying just in themselves. Jack couldn't even tell what color they were in the darkness, but they were entrapping nonetheless, like a steel bear trap.

    The pale man threw the trembling Irishman a smirk and then looked to the other man that was restraining him, a brute of guy that looked like he could crush a watermelon as if it were a grape.  

    “Take him downstairs,” the pale one ordered in that growly voice. “We’ll wait for the hunter there.”

    The brute nodded and jerked Jack towards him. Caught off-guard by the sudden gesture, Jack staggered into the guy’s chest, which was like running into a brick wall. 

    Without giving Jack the chance to right himself, the group started to file out of the bedroom, the pale guy in front. Letting out a grunt the brute yanked Jack in front of him, forcing him to walk.  

    _I can’t let them take me!,_ Jack thought. _They’ll probably kill me or something, I have to escape!_

    Trying to be quick, Jack darted to the left, hoping to catch the brute off-guard and free his right arm. 

    With a sigh of irritation, the brute jerked Jack back, switching Jack’s right arm into his right hand and capturing Jack’s left arm in his left hand. Jack cried out, pain rippling up his arm as it was yanked painfully. Any harder and the thug might have dislocated Jack’s shoulder. 

    Trapped and being forced to walk in front of his captor, Jack fought with every step as they neared the stairs. Yet his resistance was futile as the thug was at least 100 pounds heavier and stood two heads taller than him. 

    As the group filed down the stairs, Jack’s captor damn near shoved him down the steps. Stomach dropping, Jack teetered at the top of the thirteen steps, fearing the worst. Yet the brute kept his grip on Jack’s arms and simply kicked the smaller man’s heels, forcing him to step off the first stair and onto the next. 

    Deciding not to take his chances on such a dangerous and literal slope, Jack trudged down the stairs carefully, not wanting to end up in a twisted heap at the bottom.

    Once the group was all gathered in Jack’s living room, the pale “boss” guy plopped himself down in one of the plush chairs, one that faced the kitchen, which sat on the other side of the stairs through a wide archway. The other three men stood in various, almost random, places throughout the room, although Jack suspected there was some sort of method to it all. 

    The brute that was restraining him suddenly shoved him forward, causing Jack yelp in surprise. He stumbled and fell to his hands and knees. Readjusting his bearings, Jack lifted his head and found himself in front of the pale man. Once again he just couldn’t bring himself to look away from those ghastly eyes. 

    Now that they were in the living room, the white glow of street light outside leaked into the house, giving Jack just enough light to make out the color of the man’s eyes. 

    For a terrifying second, he thought they were red. Like two, brilliant red stop lights. But then the man blinked, and they were a dark blue. 

   _ I-I must be imagining things…_

    As he gawked at the man before him, the man smirked, once again showing off those astoundingly white teeth. 

    “What’s your name kid?”

    Jack blinked and stayed silent, partially terrified but also stubborn. No way was he going to give these guys his name.

    Suddenly, something slammed into his stomach. The air was forced from his lungs, and he could only manage a startled grunt as the force of the blow forced him over onto his side. He wrapped his arms around his throbbing abdomen and tried to cough, desperate for air. 

    As he lay in the fetal position trying to catch his breath, the thug that had escorted him downstairs towered over him, his foot pulled back to kick Jack again. Spotting the raised foot, Jack clenched his eyes shut and curled into a tight little ball, protecting his stomach from another blow. Yet the brute kicked him again anyway, but this time in the head. 

    Jack’s head snapped backward and his eyes shot open. Blood immediately started to pour from his nose, and his bottom lip stung the mad. His ears rang, and his vision spun. 

    And then he blacked out.

-

    The pale man looked at the unconscious man before him with an emotionless glare. He then looked to the brute that had done the knocking out and waved him away.

    “Enough Caine. He’s done for now.” With a sigh, he rose from the chair, and Caine took a few steps back. The pale man then nudged the young man’s shoulder with the tip of his boot. The man didn’t make a sound, didn’t even flinch. 

    Behind Caine, one of the other men moved a curtain hanging in front of a window to peek out into the street. 

    “Hey Seth, I think he’s here.”

    The pale man, Seth, looked to the man who spoke and nodded. “Alright, it’s go time then. Caine, Greg, stay here with me. Jake, Rodney, take the kitchen. Make sure he doesn’t sneak up on us from there.”

    Caine and the guy by the window nodded, while the other two men hurried into the kitchen, where they disappeared from sight. 

    Seth glanced down at the man lying still by his feet and grinned. “Perhaps we’ll finally win one for the team. He seems pretty attached to you. Let’s hope this works, for your sake.”

    He received no response, and Seth chuckled. Lifting his head, he looked to the man by the window. 

    “Alright Greg, open the door. I want to give him a message.”

    Greg nodded and unlocked the door before swinging it open wide. Pale light from the streetlight streamed in. Greg quickly stepped behind the open door and looked to Seth. 

    Seth grinned and reached down to grab the unconscious man by his arm. With little effort, he dragged him over to the open door. Dropping him like a sack of feed, Seth stood in the beam of light and looked into the yard. 

    It was deserted, not a soul in sight. Not even a single car passed on the street beyond. But he knew the hunter was there. He could smell him, hear his heart, taste his apprehension on the breeze. With a wicked smirk, Seth squatted down next to the young man’s head and grabbed a handful of his brown hair. Lifting the man’s head, he looked back into the yard. 

    “Listen up hunter!” Seth shouted. “I’ve got your precious little friend here! He’s quite adorable, and he smells nice too.” He made a point to inhale the young man’s scent, getting strong and savory notes from the blood dripping from the man’s nose. “Mm, delicious! I might just take him for myself.”

    There was no response from the yard, not that he expected one, but he caught a change in the hunter’s scent. He was angry.

    Grinning like a madman, Seth dropped the young man’s head, relishing the _thunk_ it made on the hardwood. Standing back up, Seth continued his message.

    “You’ve got three minutes, hunter! Three minutes, and then we eat this scrumptious little boy!”

    With that, he slammed the door, locked it, and turned to Greg. 

    “Wait one minute, then we eat him.”

-

    One minute passed. All was quiet in the house. Seth listened, watched, waited. No sign of the hunter. His scent never changed, his heart rate never increased. 

    He looked to Greg, who waved a single finger in the air in a circular motion. 

    Time’s up. Time for lunch. 

    Seth grinned and reached for the young man still passed out by the door. Grabbing him by the arm again, he dragged him into the kitchen, where he pulled out one of the dining chairs and plopped the unconscious man into it. As he situated the man in the chair, Caine came up next to him holding an extension cord. Nodding to the brute of a man, Seth took the cord and began to tie the young man up. Once he was secure, not that he was really going anywhere, Seth called for the rest of the men. 

    “Keep watch while I start carving this turkey. If he screams, I’m positive the hunter will come bursting through.”

    The four of them nodded and spread out to different parts of the kitchen. 

    Seth then turned back to the unconscious man. Blood had started to drip down his chin and onto his blue T-shirt. Wanting to sample his meal before he destroyed it, Seth wiped a finger under the man’s chin, catching a decent amount of blood on his finger. Popping it in his mouth, Seth hummed. 

    “Mm, you taste better than you smell.”

    Mouth watering from that small sample, Seth slunk behind his immobilized prey. Once there he grabbed the man by his hair and yanked his head back and to the side, exposing his neck and, most importantly, his external jugular vein. 

    More than ready to dig in, Seth opened his mouth wide. As he did, fangs suddenly grew from his existing teeth. His top canines lengthened and became needle sharp. His bottom canines followed suit, and then his bicuspids next to the bottom canines grew longer and sharper as well.

    As his fangs grew into existence, his eyes started to morph as well. His pupils enlarged and split, and his blue irises rippled, turning into a bright red. Once his pupils had fully separated into thirds and his irises had changed, his eyes started to glow a dangerous bright red.  

        Seth placed his free hand on the young man’s shoulder as he lowered his mouth to his prey’s neck. As he did, the young man stirred, and a low moan escaped him. Seth smirked at the cute little noise and decided to play with his food a little. He closed his mouth and instead moved it up to the man’s ear. Briefly blowing on it, he then whispered huskily into the man’s ear. 

    “I’m going to make you feel real good love. Just sit still and let Daddy work.”

    The young man stirred some more, and a groan escaped him. Not sure, and not really caring, if the reaction was to his words or not, Seth chuckled and moved his mouth back to the man’s neck. He just barely rested his lips against the pale flesh and inhaled deeply. 

     _Ah, he smells so good. Fresh, warm, just delicious._

    Not wanting to wait any longer, he opened his mouth wide, lined his top fangs with that plump vein just beneath the skin, and sank his teeth into the sweet little human fruit. 

-

    Jack jumped. Something heavy, hard, was on his left shoulder. He groaned, trying to shrug off the uncomfortable weight. Yet as he moved, he felt this deep, aching bite in his neck. He flinched again, and then the pain hit him. It wasn’t very bad, and he only whimpered a little. But then he felt a tight hand in his hair and a hand on his shoulder. Crying out, he tried to move away from the hands and the pain. Then he heard a sucking noise. 

    And then this fiery, hot, searing pain shot down his spine, and he screamed. His eyes shot open, but he couldn’t see anything. Everything was too fuzzy and dark. Still wailing, he tried his damnedest to shake off his attacker. But those hands held him perfectly still, and something was wrapped tightly around his chest, making any sort of forward movement impossible. 

     _Holy fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, what’s happening?! It hurts so bad…!_

    And then suddenly, he didn’t have the energy to scream anymore. It just, faded. His voice wavered, then quieted, and then went completely silent. He slumped back, his eyes drooping and mouth slightly agape. There was a deep chuckle right by his ear, but it hardly registered. His mind was hazy, like a blanket of fog had completely covered his thoughts. 

     _Fight! Come on, I have… to fight… this…_

    And yet he just sat there, unable to move, unable to save himself. 

-

    Seth was just about to draw away from his meal when the front door burst open. He jerked his head up, removing his fangs from the young man’s flesh fast and messy. The young man cried out weakly, and blood started to ooze from the six puncture wounds on his neck. His head rolled forward, and he was still.

    With a growl, Seth released his prey and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He watched as Greg snarled and charged outside. There were the sounds of a fight, and then Greg shouted, and something big hit the ground. 

    Silence followed for a moment or two, and then heavy footfalls echoed throughout the house. Jake and Rodney moved closer to Caine, who was crouched and ready in the entrance to the kitchen. 

    As the footsteps grew nearer, a man came through the door. Black hair, brown eyes, lips set in a firm, straight line, light facial hair around his mouth and running back to his ears, and tan, almost olive skin. He wore a weathered black leather jacket over a dark red shirt, black jeans, also a little weathered, with dark brown work boots. A belt hugged his hips, and hanging from it was a dagger, a pistol, several pouches, and a machete sheath. The blade that was missing from said sheath was clutched in the man’s right hand and dripping with blood. 

    Seth’s nostrils were immediately overwhelmed with the man’s stench, and he snarled. 

    “‘Bout time you showed up, _hunter_ ,” he spat. “You’d a’ waited any longer and your friend here would be dead.” He glanced back at the young man and grinned. “Oh, oops.” With a sneer, he looked back at the hunter. “He might already be.”

     With a furious glare on his face the hunter charged, blade raised. Jake went at him first, aiming low for a tackle. Managing to sidestep with impressive speed, the hunter got out of his path and brought his blade down. In the blink of an eye, Jake’s head was sent rolling as his body crashed to the floor, twitching and pouring blood. 

    Rodney roared and rushed him next, pulling out a blade of his own. He swiped at the hunter, who jumped back, and then tried to slice at him. Parrying Rodney’s blade with his own, the hunter kicked Rodney’s knees, making him screech and drop to the floor. The hunter wasted no time in stabbing him straight through the heart. Rodney choked and slumped forward, hitting the floor with a _tha-thump_.

    Caine snarled like the beast he was and stood his ground, making the hunter come to him. 

    Seth looked to his fallen men and then to Caine. He was sure the big guy could take this hunter, who was only a few inches taller than the human behind him, and maybe a little heavier. 

    Then it hit him. 

    The other human. 

    He hurried deeper into the kitchen where he found a large kitchen knife resting in its wooden block. Seth pulled it free and scrambled back to his place behind the woozy man. He paused, wanting to assess the situation between Caine and the hunter. 

    Caine had the guy by the neck, trying to squeeze the life out of him. The hunter, forced to drop his blade, tried to lift himself away from Caine’s hand in order to breathe while his feet dangled and kicked about. 

    Seth’s hopes soared, but then plummeted when the hunter kicked Caine right in the dick. 

    Caine bellowed and went down hard, dropping the hunter and hitting his knees. Rolling away from him, the hunter snatched his blade, hopped to his feet, and took a baseball swing at Caine’s head. And like a baseball, Caine’s head rolled into the living room. 

    Then the hunter turned towards Seth, Caine’s body hitting the ground behind him. 

    Partially terrified, but mostly pissed, Seth snatched a handful of the young man’s hair once again and pulled his head up. He pressed the kitchen knife to his throat, making sure to press hard enough to indent the skin. The young man groaned in his grip.

    “Make one more move and his blood will paint the damn walls,” Seth growled. The hunter, breathing hard from fighting, slowly raised his hands. Seth nodded toward the machete. “Drop it.” The hunter did. The blade clattered noisily to the floor. “Now kick it over here.”

    The hunter glared at him, but did as he was told. The knife skittered across the linoleum, right past Seth’s feet. He looked down to watch it pass. 

    And that was his first mistake. 

    The hunter lunged at him, tackling his legs and toppling him to the floor. Seth cried out in surprise, and the kitchen knife was flung from his hands. The hunter clambered up to sit heavily on Seth’s stomach before he began punching him in the face repeatedly. Seth tried to fight him off, but with every punch, he became more and more disoriented. Soon his left eye began to swell, and all he could taste was his own blood as it seemed to pour down his throat. 

    When the punches finally stopped, the hunter got off of him and left him a wheezing, bloody mess. Seth rolled over onto his side, then managed to get on his knees. The hunter appeared in front of him again, this time holding his machete. 

    Seth looked up at him as best he could, but his head threatened to topple him right over. He managed to laugh and closed his eyes as he tried to breathe through his broken nose with a smile on his face. 

    “What’s so funny?”

    Seth chuckled again as he opened his tri-pupiled eyes to temporarily glare at the hunter. “You," he choked. Swallowing a large amount of blood and saliva, Seth grinned, showing off his fangs. “You can’t really believe you’re going to stop us? All of us? Please.” He growled and spit out a wad of blood. “You hunters are so pathetic, thinking you can save all of them.”

    The hunter just glared at him, and then shrugged. “Well maybe not. Maybe I can’t save all of them. But I can save him,” he pointed at the young man still bound in the chair. “By killing you. And that’s all I need to be able to sleep at night.”

    And with that, the hunter swung his blade. 

-

    Someone was shaking him. 

    Jack groaned and tried to lift his head. He managed to crack open his eyes and lifted his head just slightly. 

    “Hey… Jack, can… me?... hold on…”

    Furrowing his brow slightly, Jack tried to blink in order to clear his vision. _That voice… That sounds like… And that smell, I know that cologne..._

    “M-Mark…?” he managed to murmur groggily.

    “Yeah, yeah it’s… get you… here. Just hold…”

    His mind was still cloudy, and he couldn’t catch all of what was being told to him. But he did catch the affirmative ‘yeah’ that answered his question. 

     _Mark. It’s Mark. Thank god…_

    Relieved to be in the company of a friend, he passed out again. 

\-----------------------------------------------

To be continued! ... Tomorrow! ~Cal


	2. Just an FYI

Sorry, not an update, but a heads-up.

I'm not pleased with how these chapters turned out. They're just... bleh. I don't like 'em. 

So I'm going to rewrite them (because that's the power I have!) and delete these ones. I'll leave these up until I get around to posting the rewritten ones. 

Also, I have a Patreon! You can now support me, and in turn get some rewards. There's sneak peeks into the fanfics, early access, exclusive livestreams, special roles on Discord, and a few other things. 

Plus, I'm starting a novel! There's a rewards package on Patreon for that as well if you'd like to support me and get exclusive Patreon-only insight into the story. 

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/caligacal

There's also a Discord server 

discord.gg/ySkknyE (If that doesn't work let me know)

**Author's Note:**

> Here's part two of H.O.S.T.! It got a little long, so I broke this part into two parts. I'll have the next one up tomorrow, I promise! 
> 
> [20180128 171129](https://sta.sh/01p98fk0aq3p) =Eye  
>  [20180128 155743](https://sta.sh/0pc9mx1j5rv)  =Teeth
> 
> ^These are just drawings of the teeth and eyes I did while bored today. They're terrible, but it's whatever 


End file.
